


Sirius Makes Future Plans

by byebyebluejay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Hogwarts Hospital Wing, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-03 05:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byebyebluejay/pseuds/byebyebluejay
Summary: April of Sirius’s final year at Hogwarts is wearing on, and the first thing on his mind isn’t NEWTS, or job prospects, or the war. It’s the fact that he’s not going to be living with Remus anymore.





	Sirius Makes Future Plans

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** [19](https://sirius-black.livejournal.com/314446.html?thread=1109070#t1109070)  
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
>  **Notes:** Thank you so much to the awesome Isa (@Chromat1cs) for being my beta, and to the prompter, whoever they may be.

The bulk of the snow around the castle had melted in the mild April days, leaving only a few patches tucked against the shadiest castle wall or at the bases of trees and a general wet muck everywhere else. Not that Sirius minded the mud, but he didn’t want Remus to be called into question about how it got tracked into the Shrieking Shack, and why only some of the tracks were pawprints. Remus was already clean and unconscious upstairs, and while it was probably doubtful that Moony could have managed it on his own, Sirius hadn’t been able to resist the urge to tuck in the edge of the duvet around his bare neck and shoulders to keep out the morning chill. The rest of the Shack still had to be dealt with before they could sneak off, though.

“Scourgify,” James said as he waved his wand at a corner of the room, wiping it clean of mud, two large patches of cobwebs, and restoring a gleam to the faded wood floors.

Sirius snorted. “Wrong time to show off, Prongs,” He said as he scuffed out a couple of hoofprints with his shoe, smearing the dirt into the floorboards, “Don’t want to make Pomfrey think a house elf’s taken up residence.”

“Good point,” James said as he studied his pristine section of the living room, “Just hard to put a damper on my excellent charmwork.”

“Not quite excellent if it doesn’t do what you want it to, is it?” Peter asked from the window where he was fastening back on the boards they’d loosened to break free.

“Oooh! New low for you from Wormtail, James. ‘Not quite excellent’,” Sirius said, flicking his wand at the filthy mantlepiece to send a shower of dust over James’s corner and into his hair. Peter giggled as James coughed and shot a look of feigned afront at Sirius.

“Since when are you two in cahoots against me? ‘Not excellent’ my arse… Hey, what time is it?”

“Dunno,” Peter said, pushing himself back from the window, “Sun’s rising, though.”

“Better get going,” Sirius said as he finished scuffing up the most obvious of the dirt, “Where’d you put your cloak, Prongs?”

The three of them slipped back to the castle, their shoes flashing out from under the cloak even with Wormtail balanced on James’s shoulder. It didn’t seem like too long ago that they had done this more easily: three of them at a time, bumping elbows under the cloak as they snuck out after hours to chart new rooms for the Marauder’s Map. But the years had changed a lot, and they weren’t so small anymore. Sirius was pretty sure that the waning of their seventh year was the only reason Remus was letting them leave the Shack again after the year-long hiatus the Snape incident had prompted. Two months left. Two full moons to run through the forest together, tumbling in the leaf litter and chasing Prongs. Eight short weeks of sleeping within sight of Remus. Of dozing off on his shoulder in Divination. Of slipping out of bed in the middle of the night to slide under the covers next to him, just to have Remus wrap an arm around him, or drowsily bury his face in Sirius’s neck.

As much as Sirius loved waking up to the smell of tea and Mrs. Potter’s cooking, he missed Remus during the summer holiday. He felt it like a stone in his stomach that only dissolved during that first embrace in King’s Cross after those long months off. It wasn’t like they weren’t going to see each other again. Now that they had apparition licenses and were all of age, there was nothing to keep them apart. But they wouldn’t eat almost every meal together, and there would be far fewer impromptu cuddles in front of a fire. The prospect was bloody depressing.

“Need some coffee, Padfoot?” Peter said, and Sirius realized he’d been smearing porridge he couldn’t remember serving himself over the side of his bowl with his spoon. James, mouth full of bacon, chuckled.

“Told you. You should have taken a nap instead of studying with Moony yesterday.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Sirius said, waving off the mug that Peter was nudging in his direction, “I was just thinking. It’s going to be weird when we graduate.”

“It’s going to be brilliant,” James countered, brandishing an imaginary wand in the direction of the Slytherin table, “Full-time anti-Death Eater hijinks. They won’t know what hit them.”

“I don’t figure Lily could be stroppy about you giving Snivellus a hard time if he’s running around in a mask,” Sirius agreed, abandoning his spoon in his porridge bowl, “Still. Won’t be seeing you lot every day, probably.”

“Won’t be seeing Moony, you mean,” James said, raising his eyebrows over his goblet of pumpkin juice, “I hear what you’re really saying. I know who really has your heart.”

Even though it was true, and he knew James was only joking, and that even if James knew the truth about Remus and his whispered conversations that he would probably understand, something that had been stretched tight inside Sirius’s chest snapped like a rubber band. Sirius could feel the Pureblood sneer steal into his face and voice, and he couldn’t help the words that slipped out between his teeth. “Couldn’t Lily’s shoes use a spit-shine, James? Use your tongue for something useful instead of wagging it at me.”

He regretted it as soon as he said it. Peter’s eyes went round as Galleons and James stopped chewing, brow furrowed. And why shouldn’t they be shocked? Here he was, sounding like his own damnable father. Furious, more at himself than at James, he shoved back from the table and stood up, tossing back his dark hair, shoulders square and jaw tight as he waited for the sound of his own words ringing in his ears to die down. When they did, he risked a sheepish look at James. James held it for a couple long seconds before giving Sirius a single firm nod. “No Moony jokes. Got it. Sorry, mate. Won’t happen again.” And the horrible tension eased away, though his stomach had gone sour with shame.

“Sorry,” Sirius managed, wrestling down on hateful part of himself was still viciously not sorry, “Shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Like I said, you need more beauty rest,” James said, grin returning to his face in full force, and Sirius snorted, glad at least that James was able to bounce back so easily.

“Maybe,” He agreed, taking one last sip of his pumpkin juice before turning away from the table, “I’ll see you all in divination.”

“Where are you going, Sirius?” Peter asked, voice pinched with nerves as he peered up at Sirius.

James gave the answer before Sirius managed to get it out, “Hospital Wing.”

Sirius had enough experience jimmying the Anti-Alohomora lock on the Hospital wing door to do it quickly and quietly. He found it bathed in sunshine and mostly empty. One bed was occupied by Matilda Farrow, who’d taken a poorly brewed sleeping potion two weeks ago. She wasn’t going to disturb anyone. And then there, in his usual back corner, was Remus. Sirius had only seen him a couple of hours ago, but it still made his heart do a drunken little roll to see Remus pink-cheeked and warm with his curls a messy halo on the pillow. His eyes were shut, and his chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath the blanket. Sirius wanted to capture the moment and keep it locked somewhere still and untouchable, where only he could appreciate it: Remus serene in the golden sun. He took a breath, and let the sharp desire go with the air from his lungs. Stupid impulse. As though he could hoard peace and beauty like they were galleons. As though Remus’s moments were his to hoard, anyway. With one quick glance over at the door to Madam Pomfrey’s office, Sirius cut a path across the hospital wing to Remus’s bed, hefting himself up onto it. He’d only started to settle himself in when Remus’s lips twitched into a smile, and one green eye slid open.

“Morning, Padfoot.”

“Morning, Moony,” Sirius said, adjusting a pillow before finding himself a comfortable position on his side to lay and watch Remus, “How are you feeling?” Remus gave his shoulders an experimental wiggle and turned his head from one side to the other before shrugging.

“I’m alright. I’m no worse than usual, anyway. And I’m not cut up, just sore. Madam Pomfrey will probably let me go early tomorrow morning. How are you?” As though Sirius was ever left worse for wear by Marauding Nights.

“Right as rain,” Sirius said, flashing Remus his brightest grin before nudging forward until his chin was touching Remus’s shoulder, “Wouldn’t say no to a nap, though.”

“I told you that you should have slept more yesterday,” Remus said, “You insisted on studying with me.”

“You’re on me for weeks about studying, and the one time I do…”

“The one time you do is when you’re going to be staying up all night. If you want company while you’re studying, Sirius, all you have to do is ask. I’d always be happy to.”

“You’d probably be studying anyway, you swot.”

“I study for my History of Magic exam for a few days before the O.W.L, and suddenly I’m a swot.”

“Nah you’ve been a swot your whole life. You just finally came into your swottiness in fifth year.”

“Stop being an arse to me,” Remus groaned, closing his eyes, “I’m tired and achy.”

“Poor Rem.”

They lay there for a while together in the bright warmth of sun and clean blankets, with Sirius still resting his chin on Remus’s shoulder. With Remus’s eyes still closed, Sirius took the opportunity to study him. The way his eyelashes lay on his cheeks. The wild life of his red-brown hair. The charming arch of his nose. There was an artful crosshatching of scars across his face, a sweet scattering of freckles. All together it was beautiful, and usually Sirius would be perfectly happy just to lay with Remus and stare at him, both half asleep. But in the context of the year, it also gave him a shocking jolt of sadness to think that this might be one of the last times they lay together like this. It pressed in on his chest and constricted his throat, suffocating in its suddenness, and the only defense Sirius had against the idea that Moony might soon be ripped away from him was to throw an arm around his waist and give him a sudden, fierce squeeze. Remus’s eyes flew open.

“Merlin. Too tight. I’m aching all over, Sirius, what are you doing?” The note of accusation in his voice called Sirius back to the present, and loosened his grip sheepishly, but didn’t remove his arm from Remus’s waist.

“Nothing, Sorry. Just… Funny morning.” This wasn’t how he’d planned to start this conversation. Then again, Sirius hadn’t really had a plan at all.

“What does that mean, ‘funny morning’?”

“Didn’t have my usual cup of coffee, is all.”

“I don’t think that’s what it is. What’s bothering you, Sirius?” Remus asked, a furrow forming between his eyebrows. Sirius, on a whim, leaned in to kiss it away, and the fold disappeared at just a brush of lips. Remus wrinkled his nose and laughed, and Sirius, feeling warm with satisfaction, relaxed back onto the pillow. “Really, what’s gotten into you? Did you lose one of my jumpers, or smoke the last of my weed or something?”

“Wouldn’t admit it if I had,” Sirius said, giving Remus a glib smile, “No. I was just thinking about life post-graduation.”

“Oh,” Remus sobered a little, but there was still some of that sparkling light in his eyes, “Did Professor McGonagall finally scare you with all her career talk?”

“She wishes,” Sirius said, sliding his tongue over his canine tooth as he considered the most appealing way to phrase his statement so that it enticed Remus rather than spooking him. He had to frame it selfishly, so Remus was less likely to raise a fuss. “No, it’s just… only two more mornings sneaking into the Hospital Wing to see you. Who knows how many more fireside naps, or nights crawling into your bed after a bad dream. How am I going to cope without you, Moony-mine?”

Remus reached out a hand to stroke back Sirius’s hair, and Sirius closed his eyes, basking in the gentle affection. Few things felt nicer than Remus’s fingers running across his scalp or gently pulling a few locks of hair. “Drama queen,” Remus said, but there was no sting in his voice, “I’ll be a floo trip away. And you’ll have Prongs, anyway.”

“Prongs?” Sirius snorted, cracking one eye open, “Prongs? Prongs is a lot of things, Rem, but a soothing presence isn’t one of them. Plus, don’t fancy being woken up be being pulled out of bed by my ankle every morning for the rest of my life. Anyway, I figure starting this summer I’d be playing a bit of a third wheel if I kept living with James. He and Lily don’t look like they’ll be breaking up anytime soon. Give it a year and they’ll be engaged. Give it two, and we’ll be uncles—I’d bet five galleons.”

“You’re not wrong,” Remus said, “What are you going to do, then?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Sirius said, and then—now was as good a time as any, right?—“I thought maybe you and I could… shack up.” Wrong time for a bad joke. Remus’s hand went still in his hair, and then he withdrew it entirely, the frown back on his lips.

“You want us to live together in… that way? Sirius, I know we’ve—” Spent late nights tangled up in front of the common room fire together, drifting in and out of a pleasant haze. Read each other passages of books to ‘revise’, with Sirius’s head in Remus’s lap. Snuggled under the eaves of Greenhouse three after getting high on more than one warm fall afternoon. Eaten chocolate from each other’s fingers. Flirted relentlessly. _Relentlessly_. At least, Sirius had. “—had some fun. But you can’t really want this to continue.” It stung, but Sirius forced a slow breath and fixed Remus with a long, cool stare.

“Oh, yeah? Who says?” Remus’s brow knitted deeper.

“Do you?”

“Don’t you?” Sirius shot back. Remus huffed out a breath and looked away, and Sirius felt a burst of glee. Black: one, Lupin: zero.

“What I want doesn’t matter—”

“It matters to me,” Sirius shot back before Remus could even get the rest of the sentence out.

“Thank you for that, Pads, but you’re missing the point. You could live with James because his family all but adopted you. You could live with Peter because no one would think anything of it; the way you two act together. You could even live with Marlene, and people would never say anything to your face about it. At least, nothing that vile. But me, the way you act with me…” And there was the crux of it. It had nothing to do with Remus’s preferences and everything to do with stigma and societal approval.

“What?” Sirius said, mouth quirking up at a corner, trying to win Remus over with a smile, “You, Prefect Remus Lupin, tamer of Gryffindor’s menagerie, paragon among wizards, are afraid of a few rumors? Fuck me flying. I never thought I’d live to see—”

“Stop that. You know it’s not that easy. You should know, anyway, how difficult it can be to live surrounded by people who wouldn’t approve of you if they knew the first thing about you.”

“You’re barking at the wrong blood-traitor,” Sirius said, still offering up his wry smile, “Try living with my parents.” That took some of the wind out of Remus’s sails.

“Oh. Of course. I’m sorry, Sirius. I wasn’t thinking.” Two points for Black.

“S’alright. Old news, you know. I’ve got the Potters now. Answer my question, though. Come on. What is it you want?”

“Not to hurt anyone,” Remus said at once, “Including you. A peaceful existence.” Stubborn git.

“These last six-and-some years must have been a real nightmare,” Sirius said, and Remus groaned, pressing his hands over his face.

“You’re impossible to argue with.”

“It would be easier if you had any good arguments. _Come on_ , Moons,” He was back to cajoling, “Light in the night. My sweet slice of moonbeam pie. Do you want to live alone in the woods for the rest of your life, trying not to offend anyone with your existence, or do you want cuddles and snogging à la carte, courtesy of yours truly?”

“Well, if it was my choice—”

“It is your choice.”

“If it was my choice alone,” Remus pressed on, “Then I’d live with you, Sirius. Obviously.”

Sirius had known as much. Or at least, suspected as much, but to hear Remus say it, even if it was in that exasperated sort of tone, still made Sirius feel like he was floating. Trying to keep grounded for the sake of the argument, though, he gestured to Remus, palm out. “So, we’ll live together, then. I’ve got my inheritance from Uncle Alphard. I’m sure he’d be more than happy if I spent it buying a condo in London for us.”

“Werewolves can’t live in London.”

“Beg to differ,” Sirius said, and then, because he couldn’t help himself, “You know, I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand, walking through the streets of Soho in the rain.” When Remus stared at him, blank faced, Sirius cracked a grin, “Remind me to play you the new Warren Zevon album. You’ll get a kick out of it. Anyway, Moony, I think it’s better not to live in the place you transform, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you’re so concerned about the neighbors, better not to let them hear you howling once a month.” That won a faint smile from Remus.

“You make a decent point there. In retrospect, I’m not sure why I didn’t just floo home to my parents to transfigure. I’d been doing it there nearly my whole life. It would have been easier, cheaper and less dangerous to do that than to have me transfigure in a shack with a passageway guarded by a Whomping Willow planted specifically for me. I wonder if Dumbledore had a reason for designing the plan he did.” Sirius stopped, thinking over that for a long moment. Was there any obvious reason why Remus had to stay at school on the night of the full moon and the day that followed? Tradition maybe, but other than that… Sirius laughed, and sensing that a favorable end of the debate was near, leaned in to kiss Remus’s cheek.

“Honestly,” He said, lip ghosting Remus’s skin, “Sometimes I think the old codger is just fucking with us…. So what do you think, Moony? We’ll already have two secrets to hide from the muggles. What’s a third? Worth a shot, anyway, right? If it’s horrible, you can piss off to the countryside, and I’ll play live-in babysitter for the future Prongs or Lily Jr.”

Remus laughed again, then turned, catching Sirius’s mouth in a soft kiss. Sirius couldn’t help but smile into it, and didn’t stop smiling even when they broke away. “Okay, Padfoot. You win. After we graduate you and I can give it a real chance.”

“Took you long enough,” Sirius said, nudging himself into Remus’s side, tucking his nose just below the angle of his jaw, breathing in the scent of Remus’s skin, “How about that nap, then, Moony?”

“Sounds perfect. Just don’t squeeze me so hard again.”

“I’ll try to resist the urge,” Sirius chuckled, and closed his eyes against the morning sun.


End file.
